For a moment, all you hear is James Westfall, playing a plaintive shape on the piano. Then jazz singer Sasha Masakowski slips in behind him, performing in another tongue – sounding like a passing thought that brings you all the way out of a daydream.
Archive for August 26th, 2011
An album that starts with this sparks-flying slide, on a song called “Death Rattle,” isn’t fooling around. This, friends, will never be confused with fern-bar blues. That’s obvious, even before Cook opens his mouth to sing — in a voice that’s one part gravel, one part Jack Black and one part shot-gun rows of deep-south dust. Particularly intriguing were aRead More
Making up tunes and whiling away the hours with an acoustic guitar on a roof terrace of a flat in an exotic locale like Barcelona, Spain seems like a dream way for one to spend their days.
So here we are, heading toward the end of another summer. This one seemed particularly quick.